Night of the Hunt
by Donovan Soule
Summary: A short story about the fight between the main protagonist and Father Gascoigne.


"Don't you have work to do?", she asks with a scoff. She's right; I do have work to finish. I'm unsure as to why I even rapped on her door, or anyone's door for that matter. No one would let a Hunter in on the night of a Hunt. It was too risky. During nights like these the beast virus spread prominently. Occasionally, the virus was so wretched that it infiltrated the sanctity of folks homes as well. I had to complete my hunt. Not just for the townsfolk, but for my sake as well. I may be resilient to the virus, but I can still be afflicted.

I pulled the brim of my black hat over my face and turned from the woman's door. Three gentlemen were trodding cross the cobblestone road towards my person; pitchforks and torches in hand. The virus wasn't just a sickness. Once it entered a persons immune system they would change. They would become feral, slaughter their families, eat their children, steal from everyone. It didn't stop at that either. Soon, infected folks would transform. They would grow long black claws, their hair would grow thicker and longer, they would grow fangs. It seemed everyone had a different transformation, but one fact remained the same. They were no longer human.

I flicked out my saw-blade and it came unlocked with a _*click*_ revealing a long, curved blade by which I held the handle of. In my left hand I had my pistol; great for catching prey off-guard. The three men approached, "You aren't welcome here!", one growled with an angry tone as I shot him in the heart. Blood spurt from his wound as he fell to the ground; his torch falling on his corpse lighting himself ablaze. The other two men dispersed to either side of myself to split my focus and closed in. With one swoop of my blade I chopped through the man on the right. A bullet entered the skull of the man on the left just before his pitchfork reached my abdomen. It was a cold night, but my prey's blood that soaked my coat kept me warm. A gruesome source of warmth.

It was difficult being a Hunter. Folks who were only freshly infected acted like regular people. Their faces warped with agony and loss as they dropped. It was definitely hard, but it had to be done, less the entire town fall prey. I walked back into the night to resume my hunt as the full moon reflected off the blood on my coat.

I passed by an alley with glowing, red lanterns. They contained a special incense that would prevent monsters from invading homes on the night of the Hunt. All doors and windows were locked tight; with curtains drawn...save for one. I peered at a window that was drawn open in the midst of the alley. I walked over to the window and reached in to close the shutters before a small hand gripped my wrist. A child. A young girl to be exact, and a look of concern was stricken cross her face. "Mister Hunter, my Mommy is missing. If-if you find her please, giver her this. I haven't seen Father either. He must be out on the Hunt". The young child handed me a minuscule music box with a forlorn expression. I agreed and told her to shut the window. It was dangerous to leave any entrance to a house open; even with the incense present.

A fellow Hunter, eh? I would find him first. He must know where his wife has gone. I walked toward the town's plaza. It was wide-open and I could get a good view of the situation. I walked across a couple corpses lying on the cobblestone pavement. The work of a skilled Hunter. There were far too many corpses lying around.

I heard a _*thunk*_ and looked over towards the middle of the plaza. A man wearing a trench-coat and a brimmed hat planted an axe into the body of a woman. He freed the axe from her corpse before planting it into her dead body once more. It made a wet slapping noise. It was disgusting. This Hunter had gone mad with the beast virus. He was my prey.

"Plenty of monsters in the shop tonight", he said standing up, looking over his shoulder back at me. He let out an icy breath that fogged in the cold air before turning to me face me completely. It was Father Gascoigne; the towns priest. How long had he been a Hunter for? No matter, he was my opponent. Some of these corpses may not have even been monsters. He's clearly had a slaughter spree.

I readied my weapons as Gascoigne came charging at me, dragging his axe on the floor causing sparks to flare up behind him. He brought the axe up with a mighty swing as I stepped back. I barely managed to dodge. He was extremely fast. I dodged to his left and attempted a swing, but he dodged left with me and pulled a shotgun from his coat. I was looking into the barrel before ducking as my ears rang from the sound that thundered from above. Normally a man wouldn't be able to hold a shotgun like that with one hand, but the beast virus gave you tremendous strength.

I stepped back and fired at his shotgun with my pistol. I had to disable his ranged capabilities. I needed to bring him in close. My shot hit the barrel of his gun and knocked it rom his grip. It clattered to the stone floor and slid underneath some corpses. Perfect. I rushed his guard with my pistol drawn firing off shots. He was lightning fast; ducking, weaving. He's clearly been a Hunter for a long while. That's when he gripped his axe and unhinged the grip near the middle. As he did an extension to the handle fell out and he locked it in place again with a _*clink*_. A pole-arm, eh? He was doing all he could to keep me at range.

I heard a whistle split the air as his extended axe came swinging from above. I stepped back and kicked it to the side as it landed. Open guard, perfect. I swung my axe into his hip and heard a wet _*crack*_. A successful hit. That should be the killing blow.

But it wasn't...

Gascoigne let out a howl of agony and stepped back. His breathing was ragged and his face was covered with sweat. He began to cough up blood. "I've still a Hunt to complete", he wheezed. "I won't be dying here. Not now and not by you". He let out a final scream of agony as he gripped his skull and dropped to the ground. His screams turned into more of a howl as fur sprouted from his body. His face warped into a hideous snout with fangs and his limbs grew twice their size. The virus had competed it's transformation. This was no longer a Hunter, it was my prey.

With Gascoigne's transformation came new speed and strength. His on-rush of attacks were almost too quick to catch. He swiped his claws in huge arcs from left to right in a blind rage. He balanced on one, muscular leg as he plucked a corpse from the ground with his right foot and hurled it at me. I side-stepped the incoming corpse and shot his chest. He let out a sick laughter of insanity as he leapt into the air. He came crashing down, cracking the cobblestone right next to me and grabbed me by the throat. I released my weapons as they clattered to the ground.

I was being strangled by a beast-man. His grip was crushing my throat. My eyes began to blur and my vision fell to bright white. I began to wheeze as my hands dropped to my sides and hung there; devoid of strength. Then suddenly, " _T-t-ting...ting ting ta-ting ta-ting. Ting-ting ti-ta-ting. Ta Ting-ta Ta-ta-ting"_ , the music box fell from my coat onto the pavement. Gascoigne released me taking a few steps back gripping the sides of his head. The music was affecting him. He couldn't stand it. This was my opportunity.

I grabbed my blade and gun and ran up to the kneeling beast. With one shot I pierced his chin up through his face. As I did that I chopped through his mid-section cutting him clean in half. Blood squirted everywhere like a crimson rain. I was happy to be alive, but a nightmare gripped at my sanity. The young girl's music box affected Gascoigne. That means that Gascoigne was her Father. And the women Gascoigne had been chopping up...

I took my hat off for a moment and breathed deeply. I still had a Hunt to complete. I would protect the girl. My prey was slaughtered and I had to find more beasts. Everything would be over once the Hunt was complete...right?


End file.
